You want to do what?
by forbidenlotus
Summary: slash: Spock approaches McCoy about pursuing a relationship. the doctor is skeptical


"You want to do what?!" McCoy all but shouted causing crewman from the surrounding tables to turn and stare. McCoy felt his face heat up and he ducked, giving the ensigns his best glare. They quickly looked away.

Meanwhile, Spock stared back at him completely composed as if he had been just asking about the weather. "I said, doctor. Would you like to initiate a relationship with me?"

"With me?!" McCoy questioned incredulously. "You must be joking."

"I never joke."

"You're out of your mind."

"I assure you I am quite sane."

The doctor couldn't believe what he was hearing. His mind just would not process it. He wants a relationship. A romantic relationship. McCoy give out a sound almost akin to an embarrassed giggle. The sound made the Vulcan's eyebrow raise up in surprise.

"Doctor, I do not understand your reaction. I see nothing amusing about my request." Spock stated, confusion creeping into his voice.

"Nothing amusing?" the doctor began. "Spock. . . I just. . . I can't." the doctor slumped back in his chair struggling for the right words to even attempt to remedy the situation. But all he could think of was one. One word that he could not get past. "Why?" He blurted.

Spock's head cocked to one side, studying the doctor with frank curiosity. "Why?" he responded, echoing the question. "I don't understand."

"Why me?" the doctor elaborated impatiens creeping into his voice.

"Why not doctor?" Spock retorted. "You are intelligent, kind and loyal. You are an excellent soldier and a talented physician. We are also on the same rank, therefore "dating" as you humans call it is permitted."

McCoy rolled his eyes, taking a sip of coffee. Leave it to Spock to choose his lover merely on convenience.

"Plus, I find you highly attractive."

McCoy choked, coughing forcefully. The Vulcan looked concerned. "Are you well, doctor?" Reaching over, the Vulcan placed a hand on his shoulder, intending to give him a good thump on the back, but McCoy flinched away as if he had been burned.

The Vulcan hastily withdrew, a flash of what looked suspiciously like hurt flinging across his face. "I apologize doctor. Clearly my request has caused you distress. Please forget I suggested it." Rising from the table, the Vulcan nodded at the doctor. "I believe you and I are both attending dinner with the captain tonight. I shall see you there. Good day, doctor." And with that he left.

McCoy would have liked to have done just what the Vulcan suggested. Pushed it out of his mind and forget it entirely. However, no matter how hard he tried, the subject persisted in his mind like a shroud.

True, he had heard repeatedly of women from the youngest of yeomen to the oldest crew member admit to harboring a crush for the cold first officer at one time or another. It seemed like a rite of passage of some sort, same as with the captain. And he guessed he could understand why. The Vulcan represented a rare breed. The ungettable guy. He was a guarded fortress, an unmovable challenge. To be the first women to plant her flag on the man's heart, not to mention his body, would be like receiving Venus's blessing, a pure symbol of women-hood.

_Too bad he is gay._ McCoy though, pushing himself away from the desk and putting his head in his hands. God, this was awkward. Not because he was gay. Might not even be that, he might be bisexual. Actually considering some of the different situation he had seen these last few years, it seemed like that would be the most "logical" conclusion to use a word Spock would approve of. But that made even less sense. Out of all the potential partners on the ship, which was basically all the women and half the males with the right amount of flirting and alcohol, the Vulcan wracked that amazingly fine-tuned brain and came up with him . . . Him.

_I find you highly attractive. _He had said. McCoy looked across the room at his reflection mirrored in the machinery. _We both know that has to be a load of crook. _Sure if you put together his blue eyes, his wide, bright smile, and the slow southern draw he had inherited, he could charm a lady into bed, even keep her there for a few months. But then things always start to fall apart. Long hours at work, the stress of losing patients, and the uncertainty of military life quickly pluck the fragile strings of attraction and unravel every one of his relationships. He had an ex-wife and an estranged daughter as badges of his dedication. He was married to his job. Being a doctor was all he ever wanted to do. Why in the world would he want a relationship?

Plus it wasn't like he was attracted to Spock. Sure the man was smart and had that tall dark mysterious air that many women fell for. He was lean and muscular, strong with those sexy delicate ears. . .

McCoy slammed his forehead against the desk. Why was he thinking about this? He couldn't. . . They would destroy each other. It would be like putting fire and ice together it. It wouldn't work. It couldn't.

Spock sat at an empty table in rec room six, staring out over the crowd. In front of him, a bowl of vegetable soup sat cold and untouched. The captain wasn't due for some time now. but Spock had come early anyway. He told himself it was to eat prior to their chess game as to reduce the distractions and improve his game. It had nothing to do with the slim budding hope that the doctor would come early in order to speak with him. That maybe just maybe. . .

A plate with a large hamburger and a side of gravy fries was slammed down on the table beside him, knocking the Vulcan out of his reverie.

"I snore, I love eating meat, and I have a severe drinking problem." The doctor declared, sitting down hard.

The Vulcan gave him an amused look. "I know."

"I am also a workaholic who is extremely foul tempered and fond of taking it out on other people. "

"I have noticed."

McCoy leaned forward resting his hands on the table. "My ex-wife says I am a lousy lay, a crappy father, and more clingy than a leech."

Spock leaned forward mimicking McCoy's professional stance. "I believe I can handle that."

"And you still want to do this?" McCoy asked incredulously.

Spock looked right into the doctor's eyes and said. "More than anything in the world."

McCoy felt his face grow warm as his eyes fell to the table. "Ok then, I'll try it."

"Try what doctor." The Vulcan said, stony faced.

The doctor scowled. "You know what I'm talking about."

"I don't believe I do."

"Damn it, Spock. . ." The doctor began, but stopped when several crewmembers glanced his direction. The doctor lowered his voice. "Fine, I want to try and develop a relationship with your crazy ass." He declared, glaring.

To his surprise, the corners of Spock's mouth quirked up in that characteristic not-smile and the Vulcan reached over, brushing his fingers across the top of McCoy's. McCoy jumped as a shock not unlike pleasure shot through his body. "As you wish doctor." The Vulcan responded placidly.

McCoy felt his face go red again. What the hell was he, a teenage girl? But the contact and the soft look on Spock's face was doing strange things to his heart. The last piece of resistance and doubt was forced away. McCoy carefully mimicked the movements of Spock's fingers, feeling a small rush of self-satisfaction at the minute gasp it earned him. This was going to be entertaining.

"So this is how Vulcan's kiss huh?. . . "

TBC? (if you desire me to)


End file.
